


Warmth

by providentialeyes



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: A little, Clothed Sex, Coming Out, Discussion of Pregnancy, First Time, Gender Dysphoria, Idiots in Love, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Size Kink, Tent Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Wet & Messy, non binary john marston, not really forced but also not completely in john's control, uh, without sayin the L word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 20:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19893712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/providentialeyes/pseuds/providentialeyes
Summary: “Hah,” John gasps and his eyes flicker shut, “Christ… You feel…”Arthur kisses his chin and makes a questioning noise as he starts up a slow rhythm.“Good… Right,” John whispers, “Wanted it to be you.”“Wanted what?”“My first,” John admits breathily, tilting his hips up into each thrust, “You’re the only one I could… The only one I trust.”





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> clit, cunt, slit are used re: john's bits  
> arthur moves faster than john is expecting and ends up feeling john's crotch before john can explain his gender and be like hey i have no peen  
> there's a moment where john reacts in a way that implies he's dysphoric about the femininity of his facial bone structure  
> no mention of his chest is made  
> there is a discussion about john's identity and how he kept it a secret and he states that he doesn't menstruate  
> and then later arthur asks if john can get pregnant 
> 
> i think that's it?

“Since when is it this cold in _October?”_ John tries to bitch quietly but his voice is trembling with his shivering.

Arthur glances over at him from across the fire.

Their tent is set up and waiting, though John’s blankets are wrapped firmly around the younger’s shoulders.

Arthur’s bundled in his coat, and though he _is_ cold, he’s not nearly as prone to suffering through a chill like John is.

The younger slighter, less fat, less muscle.

They’ve already eaten and are currently just trying to put off dousing the fire for as long as possible.

“Don’t think we’ve ever been this far north for Winter,” Arthur says quietly, watching John cringe and burrow further down into the blankets.

“Are we stayin’ for _Winter?”_ John asks incredulously, “We gon’ die, we ain’t built for this shit.”

“We ain’t gon’ die,” Arthur says firmly before standing up, dusting off his hands and gesturing towards the tent, “C’mon. We ain’t dyin’ but you might freeze.”

John groans miserably and slowly stands, keeping the blankets carefully wrapped around himself.

He ducks into the tent and struggles to get his boots off without un-cocooning himself before dropping onto his bedroll in a wool and fur lump.

Subtly trembling.

Arthur toes off his boots, shucks his coat, and ties up the flaps of the tent, trying to minimize the draft that’s whistling through the gaps.

A few minutes after he’s laid down, warm under his own blankets, he notices John glancing at him periodically.

“John?” Arthur asks tiredly.

“Can we share?” John blurts out then flinches back a little, surprised at himself, “I mean... It’d be warmer.”

Arthur huffs quietly, shaking his head in amusement.

He sees John’s expression fall flat and realizes his reaction might have come off as rejection.

He shifts and lifts his blankets in offering.

“Bring yours over here, too, we’ll layer ‘em up,” Arthur says softly.

John studies him silently, a bit guarded, then slowly crawls over and reluctantly unwraps enough that Arthur can straighten out the blankets, covering them both.

The older man reaches behind himself and tucks the layers under his back.

John scoots a little closer to let Arthur tuck the other side of the blankets under him, closing them within a pocket of air, quickly warming with their combined body heat.

They lay still beside each other for several minutes before John grumbles something unintelligible and squirms closer, pressing against Arthur from knee to chest.

“... John?” Arthur murmurs curiously as one of John’s arms snakes its way around the older man’s waist and squeezes.

“You’re warm,” John says, his face muffled in Arthur’s chest.

The older man snorts softly and hesitantly returns the embrace, letting his arm lay heavy over John’s side.

John tenses ever-so-slightly then slowly relaxes and rubs his cheek over Arthur’s sternum.

"Alright, you damned cat," Arthur laughs and lightly squeezes John.

John grumbles but doesn't move from his position, plastered to Arthur.

\--

They both fall asleep fairly quickly.

Even as the wind picks up and snaps the canvas with forceful gusts, they stay under.

It's Arthur, who wakes first.

It takes him a moment to gather himself in the dim dawn's light seeping through the canvas.

Arthur lifts up slightly and John shifts closer in response to the cool air that funnels under the blankets.

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut before blinking them widely in an effort to clear his vision without the need for lifting his hands and disturbing John further.

He becomes aware of John's ass pressed against him, the younger having turned away some time in the night.

Arthur flexes his hand on John's waist and the younger shifts back against him, the barest exchange of weight from one hip to the other, but it ends with John's ass pressed even firmer against Arthur's clothed cock.

And the slow-building interest that's brought him to half-hardness.

Arthur swallows thickly and his hand flexes again, this time involuntarily.

John mumbles something in his sleep and wriggles against him.

Arthur lets out a small hiss, then a bitten back groan as John's hips perfectly align with his own.

He can feel the warmth of John's ass against his cock, just about the only place where the younger feels warmer than himself.

Arthur ducks his head and keeps himself still, so tempted to let go of John and palm himself the rest of the way to hard.

When John twitches and seems to wake a little suddenly, Arthur leans back to look at the younger when brown eyes peer around to find him.

"Mornin'," Arthur says hoarsely.

John's silent, sleep-hazy and slightly-warm gaze moving over Arthur's expression.

"That for me?" John asks, voice scratchy, and lightly rocks back into Arthur.

Arthur hurriedly grips the younger's hips tight to still John and falters for a reply.

John watches Arthur's cheeks pinken and eyes skitter away.

But he wants Arthur to…

He wants Arthur, if Arthur wants him.

So he sniffs quietly and turns away, pushing one leg back to tangle theirs.

"John," Arthur whispers hurriedly.

"Hm?"

"What are you…?"

"We're both…" John presses his lips together and fights the grip on his hips to push back against Arthur, "Warm."

John can hear Arthur breathing deeply behind him and occupies himself with seeing if he can push his own socked toes down the back of Arthur's sock.

"... John," Arthur whispers again, "What are you askin'?"

"What're you willin' t'give?" John replies tiredly, pushing the blanket up tighter under his chin.

The hands on his hips squeeze lightly.

Then one moves down the front of his lower stomach to cup his crotch.

John tenses sharply.

Not having expected Arthur to move so quickly, before he could say anything, before he could explain.

“... A-Arthur,” John says hesitantly, and the older man is still behind him, hand warm over John’s pants.

Arthur shifts slightly behind him and John feels his heart clench with worry, every bad reaction the older man could have running through his head.

“What’s this?” Arthur whispers, tone horribly confused.

John swallows hard and closes his eyes tight, pressing the blanket to his mouth.

“... John?” Arthur whispers.

And his hand moves, fingers gently pressing, exploring.

John inhales sharply through his nose and bites down on the wool.

He wishes he was brave enough to turn around, to see what kind of expression is on Arthur’s face.

He wishes he had the right words, wishes he’d told the older man earlier.

Arthur’s fingers rub over his clit through his trousers and drawers.

“You a woman?” Arthur asks hesitantly.

 _“No,”_ John says quickly, shaking his head.

Arthur’s fingers still and the older man goes quiet behind him and John's fingers are trembling in their grip on the blanket.

“But… But you’re like a woman, here?” Arthur asks softly, pressing the pad of one finger of the bundle of nerves.

John twitches and curls up slightly.

“John?” Arthur’s voice is gentle, confused but earnest in his effort to understand.

“I have… Those parts, yeah,” John hisses.

“Alright,” Arthur murmurs, “... Alright.”

“Is that…?” John swallows roughly and rubs the blanket over his lips, mouth suddenly dry.

“Dunno how you kept that this long,” Arthur murmurs, not unkindly, just genuinely surprised.

“I don’t bleed, like a woman,” John mutters, his breath catching slightly as Arthur’s fingers resume their soft exploration, “So s’long as I stayed clothed…”

“Hm,” Arthur moves behind him, reaches up to shift the younger’s hair out of the way, and presses his lips to the side of John’s neck.

John squirms at the cool skin on his neck before settling back against Arthur.

“Don’t wanna strip you, s’too cold,” Arthur murmurs.

John wriggles slightly before shifting to lay on his back, finally looking up at Arthur, who looks over John’s face sleepily.

John licks his lips nervously and studies the older man for a few, long seconds before reaching down and gently pushing Arthur’s hand away, undoing his own trousers.

Arthur’s hand moves back but lingers around his hip, the hand that got trapped under John retracting to fold above the younger’s head, fist propping up Arthur’s cheek.

John sees the heat growing in Arthur’s eyes and presses his lips together to stop them from trembling.

He shoves the panels of his trousers apart and works on unlacing his drawers.

He has to look away from Arthur when the older man moves the hand that was propping his head up to lightly comb John’s hair back from his face.

John reaches up his free hand and messily shoves his hair back into his face, keeping the highest points of his cheekbones covered.

The softer angles of his jaw.

Arthur’s fingers still in his hair then pull away.

John presses his lips together harder and finally gets his drawers open enough that he can grab the older man’s hand on his hip and push Arthur’s hand under the fabric.

Arthur huffs quietly above him and John moves the blanket back to cover his face up to his eyes, feeling his cheeks burning.

Arthur’s fingers are so much rougher than his, thicker and calloused in ways that John’s younger hands aren’t.

John breathes in shakily and his brows furrow at the feeling of being touched.

The older man’s touch is warm, slow and confident with each press and stroke.

John opens his legs a little wider, watching the shifting outline of Arthur’s arm moving under the layers.  
  
He can tell Arthur’s watching his face.

The older man’s fingers slide further back and spread him open, holding him like that as another finger runs over his slit.

Slipping easily through the wetness.

John makes a small noise when those slicked fingertips return to his clit, uninhibited by cloth and sliding over the little nub.

“You done anythin’ before?” Arthur asks quietly.

John hesitates to answer, not sure what would sound better to Arthur.

Arthur’s free hand moves to lift John’s chin up and the younger slowly looks up.

“You a virgin, Johnny?” Arthur teases gently.

John knows it’s lighthearted but his chest still tightens and he jerks his chin away, looking back down at the shape of Arthur’s arm.

“Shh,” Arthur hushes him, “Weren’t tryin’ to be mean about it, promise.”

John sniffs quietly and glances away, feeling his cheeks burning as he spreads his legs a little further.

Arthur takes the invitation and moves to press the tip of his middle finger inside of John, slowly wiggling it as he pushes inside John to the last knuckle.

John shifts his hips and moves one hand down, grabbing Arthur's hand and getting the older man to add a second finger.

He can feel the older man's amusement radiating, at being silently bossed around.

John clenches around the fingers inside of him and urges Arthur to move them before retreating his own hand to lightly grip the older man's forearm.

"How many you use?" Arthur asks.

John glances up at him, brows furrowed in question.

"Fingers, John, when you do this, how many?"

John bends one of his legs at the knee and looks down again.

Then re-positions Arthur's hand so the older man's four longer fingers are pressed together in a compact way.

He hears Arthur exhale shakily when the older man understands and looks up again.

Arthur's staring at the lump of his hand and John's under the blankets.

"I ain’t that tight," John mutters, "You can be rougher."

Arthur nods slowly and runs his four fingers through John's slick, trying to get them coated.

He presses the middle two in, pumping slowly as his thumb plays over John's clit.

John makes a choked sound when Arthur's fingers hit the right way inside of him, his socked toes curling.

Arthur adds a third finger and John bites his tongue.

Because three of Arthur's fingers feels about the same as all four of his own.

His gut clenches in anticipation, at finally having something that'll make him feel stretched again.

Arthur twists and spreads those fingers as they slip wetly in and out.

John feels his face growing hotter under the blanket as he hears himself grow wetter, squelching with every thrust of the older man's fingers.

Arthur adds his fourth finger and a whimper passes John's lips at the hot burn, his eyes involuntarily closing, thighs tensing.

"You good?" Arthur asks, his lips pressing to John's cheek.

John nods slowly and hesitantly turns, lowering the blanket until he feels Arthur's exhales, warm on his lips.

The younger looks up to see Arthur looking over his face, conflicted.

"What?" John asks.

"Dunno if we should," Arthur mutters.

John's face pinches in confusion and then annoyance.

"You can fuck me with your fingers but can't kiss me?"

"Kissin'..." Arthur frowns slightly and gets John to twitch by pressing hard on his clit, "Kissin' implies somethin'."

"Oh?" John asks breathily, covering Arthur's hand with his own.

"Means there're feelin's," Arthur says slowly, studying the younger, "You got feelin's 'bout me, Johnny?"

John sniffs and guides Arthur's fingers as deep in him as they can go, glancing down then back up, feeling hesitant and brave at the same time.

"Fuck me and I'll tell you," John challenges.

Arthur quirks a brow at him and curls all four fingers inside John, getting the younger to gasp.

"You sure?"

John nods sharply.

"How do you want to…?"

John sniffs and squirms, reluctantly pushing Arthur's hand away to turn his back to the older man.

Arthur gets John’s pants and drawers down to the younger’s knees and manipulates John until the younger’s back is arched and Arthur can get his fingers back inside John from the front.

John tries to keep his breathing even as he feels Arthur opening his own pants and then the heat of the older man’s cock against his ass.

John’s leg is lifted and propped up, bending it back over Arthur’s legs.

He feels the head of the older man’s cock slip across his slit and press against the opening of his cunt.

John reaches a hand back and squeezes Arthur’s arm.

The older man’s fingers move lazily over John’s clit as the tip pops inside and John lets out a shaky sound.

“You good?” Arthur whispers, pausing.

“Big,” John mutters.

“Too much?”

“No,” John whispers, “S’good.”

Arthur rocks his hips lightly to go a little deeper and John lets his head fall back against Arthur’s shoulder.

He looks up and can just see the furrow of Arthur’s brows over blue eyes with blown-wide pupils.

“You thought about this before?” Arthur asks quietly, sliding deeper in small increments.

“Have you?” John asks, turning his head a little more to meet the older man’s eyes.

Arthur’s eyes are flicking over John’s face with a kind of uncertainty John’s unfamiliar with seeing on the older man’s face.

“Arthur?”

“Yeah,” Arthur murmurs and rubs his middle finger slowly along the side of John’s clit, “You weren’t like this though.”

John hums quietly in understanding and presses his toes against the back of Arthur’s calf, squeezing the older man’s arm.

“Move,” John orders quietly.

Arthur rocks into him and presses his lips to the side of John’s face at the same time.

“Used to think ‘bout you ‘lot,” John admits, “We been busy lately.”

“What’d you think of?” Arthur whispers against his cheek.

“Stupid shit,” John mutters and starts to turn away only for Arthur to bottom out and turn his face back towards the older man.

“Like what?” Arthur asks, barely above a whisper, eyes heavy-lidded as looks deeply into John’s.

“... Sappy shit,” John breathes out.

Arthur studies him for a moment, head tilting in curiosity.

“Do I gotta make you come ‘fore you tell me whether you have feelin’s for me?” Arthur asks quietly, eyes dropping to John’s mouth.

John swallows dryly and closes his eyes, moving his hand down to guide the older man’s fingers to his clit.

Arthur starts rubbing him precisely, shallowly pulling out before thrusting back in.

John sucks in a breath through his teeth and bites down on a hiss of _‘Arthur’._

He trembles as he gets closer and Arthur’s lips move across his cheek to press just next to John’s mouth.

The younger whimpers softly and turns the rest of the way to meet their mouths as he starts to come.

He clings to the older man’s arm and cries out quietly against Arthur’s lips.

“Do you?” Arthur pulls back and asks as John’s coming down, the older man’s fingers slowing until they stop, resting, buried in the dark curls.

“Yeah,” John says brokenly, “... Yeah.”

Arthur presses a kiss to the furrow between John’s brows before ducking his head and burrowing his face into John’s neck.

Picking up his pace.

Small broken sounds escaping John, though he tries to muffle them with the blankets.

Arthur groans quietly against his neck and moves his hand to grip John’s hip, pulling out so his cock is pressed along the line of John’s slit.

Arthur’s breaths are hot and heavy on the skin of his throat and John digs his fingers into the older man’s arm.

“Wh-” John stops and clears his throat, nudging his jaw against Arthur’s forehead, “Why’d you stop?”

“Wanna face you,” Arthur murmurs, “Need a moment.”

John swallows and Arthur helps him turn around so they’re facing each other.

Arthur tilts John onto his back and shuffles to kneel between John’s thighs, getting his hands under the younger’s ass and lifting his hips.

“I do… Too,” Arthur mutters as he lines them back up.

“What?” John asks shakily as he hooks his heels behind Arthur’s knees.

“... Have feelin’s,” Arthur says hesitantly, meeting John’s gaze, a bit guarded.

John feels light, warm, and hopeful.

“Care ‘bout you ‘lot, John,” Arthur’s voice is as gentle as the man’s soul, when he murmurs that, before pressing their lips together.

John returns the kiss then pulls back.

“Want you back inside me,” John whispers.

“Alright,” Arthur says softly and squeezes John’s ass lightly before sliding back in.

“Hah,” John gasps and his eyes flicker shut, “Christ… You feel…”

Arthur kisses his chin and makes a questioning noise as he starts up a slow rhythm.

“Good… _Right,”_ John whispers, “Wanted it to be you.”

“Wanted what?”

“My first,” John admits breathily, tilting his hips up into each thrust, “You’re the only one I could… The only one I trust.”

“Oh,” Arthur whispers and drags his lips along John’s jawline, making the younger squirm.

John moves one hand down to his crotch and rubs himself lightly, turning his face to press his cheek against Arthur’s.

“Where do you want me to…?” Arthur breathes out shakily as his rhythm falters.

John blinks slowly, watching Arthur’s head lift as the older man moves to look at him again.

“I don’t…” John hesitates, “Dunno.”

“Hm,” Arthur moves his one hand to John’s lower stomach and rubs lightly over the younger’s belly, “You can’t… You can’t get pregnant, right?”

John shrugs slowly.

Arthur studies him for a moment then leans in and guides John into a deep kiss, shucking up the younger’s shirt to John's ribs.

Thrusting a little harder, a little faster.

John groans quietly, voice breaking.

Arthur echoes him and bites lightly at John’s lower lip before pressing their foreheads together and pulling out, laying his cock along John’s cunt.

Cock jerking as he comes on the younger’s belly.

“Shit,” Arthur gasps and moves his hips back, dragging his fingers through his spend then rubbing John’s clit hard.

John gasps, stomach clenching as he curls up slightly, pressing against Arthur, his hands going to desperately clutch at the older man’s shoulders.

“Arthur,” John chokes out and whines through clenched teeth, hips jerking against the older man’s touch as he comes.


End file.
